Time Lords Don't Get Sick
by stcrmpilot
Summary: The Doctor definitely hasn't come down with a cold.


"DONNAAAAA!"

Donna sighed, setting down her hairdryer as the Doctor hollered for her yet again. He'd found himself a resort planet that had purple water—and had explained exactly why the water was purple the day before in minute detail, but she had since forgotten—and he was very eager to take her to see the waterfalls. She'd insisted on a rest first, because they'd only just gotten back from another adventure, but now he was back outside her bedroom door, yelling at her to get going.

"I'm coming!" she shouted back.

"Well, hurry–" He was interrupted by a bout of coughing, which made Donna raise her eyebrow. "Hurry up," he finished weakly.

"Alright, alright," she grumbled. She finished fixing up her hair in the mirror before going over to her bed and grabbing a jacket. She was about to exit her bedroom and put the Doctor out of his misery when she heard more coughing from outside; she threw open the door to see him leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

He straightened up immediately, though he couldn't help swaying a little. "There you are!" he exclaimed. "About time."

Donna narrowed her eyes. His voice sounded distinctly hoarse, his nose and cheeks were tinged pink, and his eyes appeared ever so slightly glazed. "Doctor," she said, amused, "have you got a cold?"

"What? Course not." He sniffled. "Why d'you ask?"

"Because you look like you've got a cold."

"Well, I'm f–" He coughed and spluttered for a moment before taking a deep breath and wincing. "Ow. But really, I am perfectly fine."

Donna took a hesitant step closer—she didn't want to catch whatever he had—and examined his face, trying to tell whether he was being serious. He was, of course.

"Really, Doctor?" she sighed. "You're obviously sick."

"Time Lords don't get sick," he mumbled. "Not with–" he sniffled– "the common cold."

But his voice was more than stuffy enough to belie his words, and she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, go get some rest. You can't go on a trip like this."

"I can too!" he protested.

"Unbelievable!" She shook her head, exasperated. "You are such a child!"

"Am not!"

Rolling her eyes, Donna reached out and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. She was shocked to find that, for once, he felt warmer than her. She wondered whether she should be concerned. What was his body temperature supposed to be, again?

The Doctor, meanwhile, sighed happily and leaned into her touch. "That's nice," he said. "Nice 'n cool." He made a noise of protest when she took her hand away.

"Please just take a rest, Doctor," Donna implored. "I don't want you running around outside with a fever."

"I don't have a fever."

"Yes, you do."

"Just gimme–" he coughed– "a mo'. I'll do that– that thing." He gestured vaguely. "Regulate my body… whatever."

Donna raised an eyebrow. "Temperature?"

"Sure." His gaze turned inwards as he focused on doing just that.

She got the feeling it wasn't going to work very well. He was looking more pathetic by the second, his posture sagging and eyelids drooping as his Superior Time Lord Biology rapidly failed him. As ridiculous as he was being, she couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him. She'd never known him to get sick before; he was probably accustomed to being in perfect physical health. Given his apparent inability to stay still for more than about a minute at a time, she could only imagine how miserable he must be laid up with a cold. She decided to let him off easy. Just this once.

"C'mon, Spaceman," she said gently. "Just rest. You look terrible."

The Doctor sniffled pitifully, scuffing his feet against the floor. "Fine," he muttered.

Donna smiled. Then she frowned. "Can I catch whatever you've got?"

"I doubt it," he said, his gaze turned despondently downwards. "Our respiratory and immune systems are nothing alike."

"Well then…" She stepped closer to him and reached up to cup his overheated cheek, making his eyes flutter closed. "Go lie down," she murmured. "Put on the telly. I'll make you some tea."

"Okay." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I really wanted to show you the falls," he said quietly. "You would've liked them."

A fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Donna stood on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. At least, she figured, he wasn't _just_ being a stubborn idiot. "We'll do it as soon as you're feeling better," she promised. "You take care of yourself first, alright?"

"Oh, fine." He couldn't resist smiling back.

"Right then." Giving his cheek a little pat, which made him wrinkle his nose quite adorably, she turned away and started off for the kitchen.

"Donna?" he called after her.

She turned back, amused by the forlorn note in his voice. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Have we still got any of that soup?"

He had on his best kicked-puppy look. How come she could never resist that look?

"I'll get you some," she assured him.

He gave a slightly loopy grin, and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets as he spun round to go find the lounge.

Donna sighed, and continued on her way. She was going to have a very sulky Spaceman on her hands for the next few days.

At least, she supposed, he was her sulky Spaceman.


End file.
